Double Dare (5 page)

He had a point, and Maggie agreed. They couldn’t close indefinitely or with every potential threat, but this threat was more solid. “You’re making a huge mistake. Past experience with this specific attacker proves he will do anything to achieve his objectives. Anything. To anyone.”

“We’ve seen dozens of suicide bombers on the news. They’re
all
nuts.”

“Call a vote.” The first woman who’d stood, Cassy Brown, said. “Simple majority rules.”

Maggie didn’t like it, but it was more than she had expected. “Fine. Vote. But there is a provision I’ll be adding.”

The auditorium again went quiet. “If you vote to open the mall on Christmas Eve, then each owner must be on-site from the time your store opens until it closes. You will not risk the lives of your employees—” she shot a look at Barone “—and protect your own by not being here. I will be all over this mall, from long before it opens until long after it closes, and I’m telling you now, when I come into your store, you’ll either be there or I’ll close it down.”

“Can she do that?” an unseen woman yelled toward Barone.

He stood, feet apart, his arms folded in front of him, and shrugged to let the owners know his hands were tied on the matter. “She can.” He solemnly nodded. “So can I, though I would never do so without a majority vote. I believe everyone should have a voice, and that voice should be heard.”

Spoken like a true bull-shitting politician, Maggie thought. Shifting responsibility to the owners. Very like Kunz, in that. Suspicious, she looked over at Barone and wondered if he was a Kunz double. “I not only can, I will.” Maggie absorbed the gasps, shocked stares, dragging jaws and outrage aimed in her direction. “Now go ahead, cast your votes.”

It took thirty minutes, but the final tally was 501 to 19 in favor of staying open.

Justin conceded, sent Maggie a defeated look laced with sympathy and worry.

“Okay, then,” Maggie said, unwilling to waste energy on regret. Facts were facts, and the sooner they were accepted, the sooner everyone moved on to working within the allotted framework toward protection. “Being open, there are preparations to make and not a lot of time to make them.”

Daniel Barone interrupted with a raised index finger. “Captain Holt, I won’t have a large number of security forces cut loose in this facility. That would certainly unnerve shoppers. Our primary responsibility is to make them comfortable.”

So the idiot would have them dead? That was some kind of whacked logic he’d embraced. No doubt, inspired by numbers. Sales. Bottom lines.

“My primary responsibility is to keep them alive.” She swallowed a grimace. “We will need some things done to better our odds of protecting everyone.”

“Like what?” the redhead said. “We can’t do much. We’re swamped already, Captain.”

“You’ll have make time for these things. Mr. Stanton from Security will send out a list.”

Justin stepped in. “An example of what we’re asking is to remove all aerosol cans from your shelves. That’s not optional,” Justin said. “The most effective means of spreading the virus is through an aerosol spray. We can’t risk your cans being confused with the terrorists’ cans. See what I mean?”

“So what?” a man sitting beside the redhead said. “We consider any spray can the virus?”

“Once you clear your shelves, yes. That’s it exactly,” Justin said.

“That’s unreasonable,” the man said. “I own a hair salon.”

Justin’s jaw firmed. “Do you see any other option? Do you have another fail-proof way to differentiate the cans? Because if you’re not a hundred percent accurate, everyone in this room and everyone in the mall could be dead in twenty-four hours.”

Gasps and silence covered a long, still moment, then the redhead spoke up. “It’s your job to protect us, damn it. You do your job.”

Maggie stepped in. “We’re trying to, but you refused our best advice, which was to close the mall. So it’s an unreasonable expectation for you to believe we’re capable of being everywhere at once—particularly when extra security forces are being denied us. We’ll do all we can, of course. But you must also do your part. That’s the bottom line, and all the complaining in the world won’t change it.”

The starch went out of the protest, and the owners fell silent. “All aerosols will be removed from store shelves,” she reminded him of his place before the interruption. “Continue, please, Dr. Crowe.”

Justin went on, and Maggie looked out into the crowd. The owners were paying close attention now, their body language intense and rapt, but they weren’t panicked. Justin was doing a good job of empowering them with essential information. But because their panic had been postponed, they could listen.

From experience, Maggie expected that when the store owners left the auditorium and they had to start making the calls on what constituted a threat and what was innocent typical behavior, the panic would return. The fear of being wrong would bring back panic with a vengeance.

Justin talked on, gave them more information to expand their comfort zones and to give them a clearer understanding to help them better assess threats.

“The germ itself is microencapsulated,” he said. “Once these minute capsules are breached, either through forceful impact or contact with water, the virus will be active and contagious.”

“Do you have to touch something to get it?” an unseen man asked.

“No, you do not,” Justin told him. “The virus can be ingested, breathed or absorbed through the skin. A microcapsule touching wet skin is the fastest way to absorb the infection. It causes the most fatalities because the body has less time to react to protect itself.”

“So if people start to get sick, they should just come to the medical office?” The redhead spoke again.

“No.” Justin cast a covert glance at Maggie and caught her subtle nod to disclose. “There’s no time for that, I’m afraid,” he said. “Once the virus is absorbed, there’s only a
two minute
window to inject the antidote. After that, it’s too late.”

A solemn hush filled the auditorium.

Maggie looked from face to face. All of the owners appeared to be feeling the full weight of their decision to keep the mall open. The full weight, and the full fear. Seizing the moment, she asked, “Now that you’re more fully informed, would you care to cast a second vote?”

“The vote has been had, Captain. Don’t attempt to intimidate the owners into bending to your will.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Barone,” Maggie said, her voice formal and stiff. “Offering them an opportunity to vote is hardly telling them what to do.”

Barone ignored her and addressed the owners. “You’ll each receive a written list of instructions within the hour. Please comply with all of them as soon as possible and then report your compliance to Security. On behalf of management, I’m asking for complete cooperation with Captain Holt and Dr. Crowe. If this attack should happen here, we will be totally reliant on their skills and expertise to avoid catastrophe. We must help them help us.”

Maggie offered Barone a nod of thanks. Maybe she’d formed a negative opinion about him too soon. He seemed to be coming through for the most part now with his support.

“Also,” Barone added. “Do remember to keep this discussion confidential. Otherwise, we’ll have open stores tomorrow but no shoppers. None of us can afford that. In the morning, of course, you’ll have to tell your employees what to watch for—but please mention nothing before then.”

Barone was accurate on this. Employees would warn family and friends, who’d warn family and friends, and the next thing the owners knew, the mall would be vacant and surrounded by reporters with camera crews. Thomas Kunz would love that. He’d see it as an opportunity to infect the press and the S.A.S.S.

The owners shuffled out of the auditorium, their expressions grim.

Barone spoke to Will Stanton. “I’m going to have to excuse myself to reassure individual owners.” He shifted his gaze to her. “Captain Holt, Will is available for whatever you need.” He shot a warning look at Will. “Remember our limitations.” Barone strode away and was immediately engulfed by worried owners.

Barone’s parting comment to Will alarmed Maggie, and
from the troubled look Justin sent her way, it hadn’t sat well with him, either. Maggie turned to face Will. “What did Mr. Barone mean about ‘limitations’?”

Will frowned, pulled Maggie and Justin across the thoroughfare and into a hallway between the security and medical offices. The little alcove had rest rooms on the left and right, and dead-ended at a door marked No Exit—Employees Only.

“I’m not sure what he meant,” Will admitted. “But I take it he hasn’t mentioned anything to you about the Winter Wonderland going on here tomorrow afternoon and night.”

“What exactly is that?” Stones tumbled in Maggie’s stomach.

“The owners have spent a fortune to create a snowfall in the Center Court pit tomorrow for the kids. You know, snowball fights, building snowmen—things people don’t normally get to do in Florida.”

“Oh, man,” Justin said. “That means every kid in five counties will be here.”

“That’s what the owners are hoping.” Will shoved a hand into his pants’ pocket. “The mall has twenty-six A-stores, ones comparable to Macy’s. Eight are located on each level,” he explained. “The rest are smaller B-stores. Specialty shops, restaurants, that kind of thing.”

Maggie nodded. “Right.”

“So, as you’d expect, the A-stores have a big voice in all mall operations.”

“What’s your point, Will?” Maggie nudged him.

He pursed his lips, debating on what to say and, for the sake of his job, what he should leave unsaid. “Right after Mr. Barone got the first call on this situation, he set up a
meeting with the twenty-six. He forgot to mention it to you. That took place at seven o’clock this morning. They agreed to extra security, provided it is requested, discreet and in no way interferes with shoppers. But they flat refused to have medical staff inside the building, with the exception of Dr. Crowe. That would be a signal something was wrong that the shoppers couldn’t miss. They’d be afraid and leave, taking their money with them.”

“You can’t be serious, Will.” Justin rounded on her. “Two minutes is all we have, Maggie. I can’t inject—”

She lifted a hand, half surprised he’d used her first name but fully grasping his objection. Her own mirrored it. “We’ll work around it.”
One bump at a time.

“Sorry to say I’m very serious, Dr. Crowe.” Will looked even more worried than he had before the meeting. “Mr. Barone will never do anything the twenty-six don’t want done. No way.”

“We’ll work around it,” Maggie said again, fighting an internal war. The owners grasped that they could be playing Russian roulette with shoppers’ lives and their own, but they couldn’t close their stores forever on a maybe, especially without a Homeland Security advisory ordering, or even recommending, they close.

She made a mental note to have Darcy petition again to get a shutdown order issued. And then outrage flooded Maggie. Outrage that the owners would jeopardize other people’s lives for their own money. Wasn’t that what Kunz was doing that everyone found so vehemently objectionable?

Her cell phone rang. Maggie stepped away and answered it. “Holt.”

“We’ve got another wrinkle.” Colonel Drake sighed.
“From five to nine on Christmas Eve, you’re going to have two groups of significant interest in the mall.”

Terrific. What else? “Who?”

“For one, Special Forces members and their families.”

“Oh, no.” Kunz would love that. Freaking love that.

“I’m afraid so.” The Colonel paused. “The mall is staying open later because the store owners are creating a Winter Wonderland in their honor. Well, theirs and the local Special Olympians.”

“Oh, God, no. I just found out about the Winter Wonderland but I didn’t know about the guests.” Maggie’s heart skipped then thudded and her muscles clenched. To GRID, the Olympians would merely be collateral damage. Targeting and killing Special Forces members—the same Special Forces that dogged GRID members and activities worldwide—would be payback. “Did you make an appeal to their commander?”

“General Foster, yes,” she said. “He won’t budge on a
potential
attack, even if it’s a credible one.”

Maggie frowned, stared at the No Exit sign on the door at the end of the hall. “Neither will the store owners. They voted to stay open.”

“Well, unlike the store owners, if needed, these guys will back us up.”

“Well, there is that.” Unfortunately the Special Forces members would feel they had reputations to protect—as well as their families—and under no circumstances would they back down to GRID. Not on a known attack, much less on a potential one. “How did you know about them and the Olympians?” Maggie asked. “Did Darcy get in an intel update?”

“No, Maggie.” Colonel Drake’s voice held dread. “I read it in the newspaper.”

And yet another hit. They were coming so fast and furious this situation should qualify as a slugfest. “In the newspaper?” So Kunz likely had read it, too. “Have Darcy add this new information and appeal to headquarters for a shutdown order.”

“Will do. But don’t expect much.”

“I don’t.” HQ would likely see Special Forces being on-site as a plus, an enhanced shot at capturing Kunz. “But I want the request on record.”

“Excellent move.”

“Thanks, Colonel.”

Justin smiled at Maggie for no apparent reason, and in a foul mood, she lifted her chin in his general direction and ended the call.

After updating Justin and Will, Maggie needed a minute to assimilate the new wrinkle. “Excuse me,” she told Justin and Will. “I’ll be right back.” She took refuge in the women’s rest room on the left off the little alcove.

How in hell was she going to pull off a successful defense of this place? Stepping over to the sink, she washed her hands with scalding hot water and looked into her own eyes in the mirror. She had reluctant retailers in the largest mall in the south, an unknown number of potential GRID attackers cutting loose a lethal virus on Special Forces, their families and Special Olympians and, no doubt their families, and the general public.